_Gélan._ You are a valiant man, if one may judge By your demeanor.
_Chrys._ (_very valiantly_). My demeanor? Bounce! Mere idle empty froth and nothing more. Why, notwithstanding that I look so brave, I’d give the riches of a universe To find some decent means of backing out; But, no, my honor must be satisfied! If I endured with patience Zoram’s taunts, I should deserve to have my knightly spurs Struck from my heels! ’Sdeath, sir, I’m bound to fight!
_Chrys._ Not at all. I’m far more skilled--but still I can’t repress A certain sense of terror. Accident May give him victory.
_Chrys._ (_indignantly_). To Zoram? Never! Would you have me stain My hitherto untarnished ’scutcheon? Shame! Stand back--he comes!
_Chrys._ (_very sternly_). I’m very much surprised-- I may say disappointed--to remark That you’re prepared to fight, and do not show The signs of terror that I hoped to see.
_Zor._ (_very bravely_). Oh, sir, I pray you don’t deceive yourself! My valiant manner hides an inward fear That almost robs me of the power of thought! Chrysal, you’ve grievously insulted me, My sense of honor forces me to fight! But I would rather have my hand cut off (Could that be done without inflicting pain) Than measure swords with you!
_Chrys._ (_furiously_). I am, but you don’t know it, You musical impostor!
_Zor._ Ha, what’s that? I can stand much abuse and never flinch, But when you twit me with my ignorance Of musical expressions, blood alone (Unless we’re interrupted) can extract The venom of the insult! Come! On guard! (_They fight._)
_Gélan._ (_aside_). These donkeys must not fight! (_Aloud_) Come--let me try To reconcile you.
_Chrys._ Reconcile us? No! But you can interfere to stop the fight! (_They desist._)
_Zor._ (_looking reproachfully at GÉLANOR_). I little thought when I called Chrysal on, That such a venerable gentleman Would suffer two impetuous headstrong youths To cut each other’s throats.
_Both._ Our honor must be satisfied! (_They cross swords._)
_Gélan._ No, no-- Attend to me. Within these crystal walls A strange mysterious influence prevails: All men are bound to speak the plainest truth! And this they do, without suspecting it. (_To ZORAM_) When Chrysal spoke the words that angered you He did not mean to speak them. He believed That he was paying you a compliment. (_To CHRYSAL_) When Zoram said that he considered you A systematic liar, mean, poor, base, Selfish, and sordid, cruel, tyrannical, ’Twas what he _thought_--not what he would have _said_!